A/N

Hello, to a new short story I'm currently working on in lead up to my actual TWAO seasom 2 story. It's pretty much going to be a lot more light hearted than you would maybe anyicipate for TWAO, but that would change when the sequal to this comes out. anyway, this set 2 months after the events of the game, so please enjoy.

Chapter 0: Howling Point, Part I

"So, here I am, a law-abiding citizen, paying my taxes and contributing to society with grace and altruism, when the business office told me I'm not eligible for a measly sum of money to help invest into my business. I mean, it's such a small amount of money for a huge amount of improvements in my profits, and thus, more taxes. It's only fifty thousand dollars. I'm sure Bluebeard could afford to gi- aid me in my ventures."

"Jack... you do know... I'm the Sheriff, right?"

"Yes, that's why I came to you... it's such a terrible injustice."

"Fuck... off."

Not completely taken aback by the rudeness of the Sheriff's refusal, the blonde man sighs heavily and dramatically, standing up from his chair on the opposite side of the Sheriff's desk.

"With that... you should really learn how to speak to people properly," his guest tentatively comments, scratching his chin with a hesitant nervousness.

"Fuck... off... please," the Sheriff repeats, making sure to emphasise the annoyance he's currently feeling in his addition.

"I guess I'll take my complaints elsewhere," the hopeless blond states with wounded pride on his face, hoping to save some shred of dignity from the exchange.

"You do that," the rude Sheriff mumbles to himself as the blonde quickly leaves the room, door calmly closing behind him.

Finally, he can gather enough silence to manufacture some form of peace within his humble office, albeit the ridiculously odorous smell of Jack's aftershave somehow lingers within the air. As usual, he was wearing a sickly sweet fragrance of summer flowers, mixed with hundreds of years of failure and unfounded optimism.

Jack Horner may be one of the least dangerous inhabitants of Fabletown, but it definitely doesn't make him the least annoying. The Sheriff doesn't believe there's a person inside of this miserable community who actually considers Jack a delight to be around, least of all the Sheriff. A thinly woven line of paperwork and the scorn of the Deputy Mayor is what keeps him from absolutely ripping the man to shreds, quite literally.

Even his damned face is annoying. With the blonde ponytail, and that smug, irritating smile, which Jack wears pretty much every time he speaks- as though he is the smartest one in the room, and knows the secrets of the universe itself- this particular man is a direct personification of hubris and arrogance, which normally wouldn't annoy the Sheriff to the point of almost launching him down the witching well, but then the community conman opens his mouth with delusions of unforetold riches.

The Sheriff has no time for promises. He barely has enough minutes left in the morning to put on some deodorant, let alone solve all the ridiculous problems the denizens of Fabletown seemingly sprout from their daily lives like a chicken lays an egg.

It was only this morning when Johann the butcher somehow managed to wedge one of his knives inside of his cranium whilst mundies were stood watching in horror. The Sheriff spent twenty minutes yanking on the knife, pretending it was all some kind of magic trick, until he managed to dislodge the knife and then had to spend another thirty minutes tying up the mundies whilst he went to the thirteenth floor to acquire a memory wipe potion.

Being the Sheriff has a lot of downsides: terrible pay, constant scorn for enforcing the rules, absolutely no recognition whatsoever, and of course, the usual violent encounters with drunk Fables, which normally end up with Snow chastising him, for some reason or other.

In fact, now that he's thinking about it, there's not actually any good sides to the job. He's only really here doing this because no-one else would.

Fantastic. Another reason he now hates the job.

His annoyed mental ramblings is interrupted by a few sharp knocks on the window of his office door; peace inside of this room lasts even shorter than one of his cigarettes, it seems.

"Come on in," he groans.

The door opens to reveal Beauty, clad in her usual red office attire, and blonde, healthy hair let loose and flowing around like a waves in the ocean. Her soft, feminine face conveys her normal sense of sharp duty, eyes focused clearly on the task at hand.

Still, there is a reason she's called Beauty, and it's because she's absolutely stunning.

Even the Sheriff can admit that.

"The Deputy Mayor wants to see you," she professionally informs, not even stepping inside of the office, instead eyeing over the decadent state of the room with a disgusted twinge to her otherwise glamorous face.

"Okay, let m-"

"Now," she sternly interrupts, giving him no choice in the matter, as usual.

Ever since the ordeal with the Crooked Man and Beauty's incredibly large debts and lavish lifestyle, Snow gave her the job as her assistant, which once upon a time, he would have gladly taken. But, she seems to be taking her position a lot more seriously than he anticipated, ordering him around from one place to another at the Deputy Mayor's behest.

However, to argue would be pointless, since he has nothing else to do apart from help Fables find their toothpaste in the morning.

Standing up from his relatively comfortable chair, he stretches out and straightens his tie. Another, more professional man would also tuck his shirt in, but that's just a bit too far for him.

Exiting his room and entering the hallway outside, he relegates himself to following Beauty, as she writes down things on her notepad with a furious tenacity.

A part of him wonders if the pen would hold up against the Fable's ruthless scribbling, but, he quickly comes to the conclusion he's simply trying to take his mind off his completely miserable life.

Only taking them a few short minutes to reach the entrance to the Business Office, Beauty opens the door and ushers him in, making sure to carefully close the door afterwards.

"Nice to see you, Bigby," Bufkin greets from his perched place on Snow's desk. "You look horrible."

Contenting himself with glaring ferociously at the green, flying Fable, his victim lets out a quiet whimper and flies off.

Stood beside her desk is the Deputy Mayor herself, talking to someone on the phone with her back turned to the Sheriff and Beauty, obviously quite embroiled in her conversation.

Without exchanging words with her boss, Beauty rushes over to the desk, picking up a file and rushing back over to the Sheriff, pretty much throwing it into his hands.

"A list of tasks to be fulfilled from Mrs White," the assistant states, beckoning for him to leave.

Bemused, he doesn't even remember walking outside of the office when he hears the door close behind him, and he finds himself stood out in the hallway with the file in hand.

Quite annoyed she didn't even acknowledge his presence, he pinches the bridge of his nose, and sighs deeply, counting to three inside his head.

"Chop chop, doggy," the familiar voice of Jack mocks from his right, as the blonde Fable stands by the door, waiting for his appointment. "Wouldn't want to keep your owner waiting."

"You've got five seconds to leave."

"I'm waiting for my a-"

"I'll break you in half."

"I'm leaving."